


Happy Trail

by ShinMeiko



Series: What if multiverse [15]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29166429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinMeiko/pseuds/ShinMeiko
Summary: Bram's scar is bothering him less and less. He might even end up liking it.And that's all thanks to Simon.Sequel to 'Chapter 44 - What if the lunch table went camping?' in my 'what if' series.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Series: What if multiverse [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1373731
Comments: 46
Kudos: 43





	Happy Trail

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel that got the most votes, so here it is!

I get out of the shower and wipe the steamed up mirror. I notice a bit of a stubble, which I could live with if ever since it started to exist my beard hadn’t taken the creative liberty to grow in patches, so I decide to take a few more minutes and shave.

I hear voices coming from the living room as I do. Apparently, my dad has arrived. I’m glad he’s here for this.

Simon’s drama teacher got them an incredible opportunity and the play this year won’t open in our school auditorium but at the Fox Theater. Pretty much all the school is going, most parents, but also some general members of the public, and even the press.

I am so incredibly proud of my boyfriend right now. My mother is coming to see the play and, very surprisingly, so is my father. After that, we are getting dinner with the Spiers so we can celebrate Simon’s performance and so he can meet my dad.

I’m not particularly eavesdropping, but I can hear their voices clearly, probably more than they think, and it picks my curiosity when I hear my name. So… yeah, maybe I’m eavesdropping.

“So,” my dad says, and I’m not sure if he’s bouncing off something or starting a new topic, “how it that Simon boy? You’ve met him, right?”

“I have. Several times. It’s a nice boy.”

Oh, Mom. You can do better than this. I know Simon got her approval. I don’t know why she’s being shy about that. It’s not like my dad needs to work out on his own that Simon is great, we can just tell him.

“How nice?”

“Nice enough to have been chosen by Bram.”

Oh. Nice phrasing. Well done mom. Even my dad lets out a laugh.

I finish putting shaving cream on my face when he asks: “And is it serious? Whatever they are. Is it serious or is it just a fling?”

“You know Bram. He never does things halfway. I think Simon will be around at least until college. But… just look at them together today and you’ll see.”

“Bram talks about him a lot. I think it’s the most open he’s been about anything personal in years.”

“Simon is good for him. Again. You’ll see. It’s good that you are finally meeting him. It means a lot to Bram.”

Oh, Mom, please, don’t embarrass me!

“I’m sorry I have been even less there lately, it’s just… with the baby…”

“Yes. It was a while ago, but I still remember what it’s like to have a newborn around.”

“I wish Bram would understand.”

“He does.”

“He doesn’t. He’s just a good kid with a big heart, but I’m sure part of him doesn’t get it.”

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be listening to this. I’m almost done anyway.

“Maybe not. But one day he’ll get kids and suddenly he’ll get it.”

And then my dad, who has no boundaries and is still the man who got me the biography of Casanova for Hannukah, asks: “Speaking of… are they at that stage yet?”

“The baby stage?”

“No, I meant sex.”

I jump and I cut my cheek. That was supposed to be my last stroke. Thanks very much, Dad. Okay, Mom, time to say no and stop all awkwardness.

“I think so.”

My entire body freezes. How does she know that?

_It was barely two weeks ago. She was at the hospital, Simon was here, we were in my bed, and… nothing felt like enough. Not making out, not running out hands on the other one’s skin, not any pleasure we could have taken or given that wouldn’t have been shared…_

_And I was feeling so close to him, so in love… so aroused too, maybe. I was on the verge of asking him to take things forward when he did and I felt so entirely reassured that we were on the same page._

_It was still all a bit terrifying and I don’t think I would have been able to do it if Simon hadn’t been holding my hand. Then again, I don’t think I would have wanted to do this if Simon hadn’t been holding my hand. This wasn’t about me. This wasn’t about him. This was about us._

_And it was glorious._

Okay. Time to focus. Let’s not get lost in the past – especially _that_ past – when my parents are waiting for me, and I have a gorgeous boyfriend to go admire. Quite literally.

I get back to my room and get dressed but I can’t find the shirt I wanted to wear. It is my favorite one, the perfect mix between formal and casual, and I know Simon likes me in it. And – although I know it won’t happen tonight – I also like wearing a shirt just because of the feeling of Simon slowly unbuttoning it.

I quickly run downstairs and quickly greet my father. “Hi, Dad.” I’m not really being rude, he called me before leaving Savannah, so we spoke today already. “Mom, I can’t find my shirt.”

“It’s because I ironed it. I wouldn’t go to the theater with my son all disheveled. It’s in the laundry room.”

“Thanks. I’ll be ready in five minutes guys, I promise!”

As I run back upstairs, I hear my dad ask my mom, voice full of an emotion I didn’t even realize he was feeling: “Was he shirtless?”

“He was.”

“But…”

“I know. I told you. Simon is good for him.”

It’s so natural for me now that I don’t really notice it anymore, but it’s true that even a few months back, I would have been so self-conscious about this. I never used to let anyone see my back, not even my parents. And I wouldn’t go as far as saying that it’s entirely gone yet… but I don’t think about it anymore when I’m at home or with Simon.

I even started to change in front of the boys after soccer practice. One of them asked about it, but it was very conversational and none of them seemed to think much about it. It was weird to realize that something so massive to me was so insignificant to others.

And it all started when Simon named it, suddenly giving it an entirely new image in my mind.

Plus the other memory I can attach it to now…

_It was a month or so after that camping trip, Simon and I were still discovering each other out of the emails, and we were so happy. (Still are). It was a hot Georgian day and we were in my room one weekend, not doing much. I was shirtless – it went beyond just feeling comfortable enough to do this, it was all about the way Simon looked and still looks at me when I’m not wearing a shirt – and lying on my stomach, scrolling through Garrett’s pictures of our last game._

_Simon was doing something or other, and I really liked that when we had nothing to do, we still wanted to do it together._

_From time to time, his fingers were running along my back, following a specific pattern that I knew was my scar. It didn’t annoy me or made me feel uncomfortable. I knew it was a mindless thing and, to be honest, it felt nice. Both Simon’s fingers caressing my back and the realization that he didn’t mind touching it._

_This could have just been that, but suddenly, his lips were on my back, tracing the line of the scar with small kisses._

_“Are you with me just for the scar?” I joked. “Is it because it makes me look like a bad boy or because you have a weird fetish?”_

_“I like it, you idiot, because it makes you unique, because it is the first thing you trusted me with in real life, because it gives me an excuse to kiss your skin, and I will keep doing all of that until you like it too.”_

_I wouldn’t say that I liked it, I still don’t, but it was already starting to not bother me anymore._

_“I might grow to like it if that means you’ll keep kissing me.”_

_I felt Simon’s lips form a smile on my back. “And it creates a nice path for me to follow. Like a happy trail.”_

_“That’s not what a happy trail is.”_

_“It is now.”_

_I turned around so I could look at my silly boyfriend and just like that, he came to lie next to me, incredibly close, landing a soft kiss on my lips._

_“But tell me if you’d prefer me to ignore it.”_

_“I don’t ever want you to ignore any part of me,” I replied, a bit more forward than I thought I would._

_His face went soft and he said: “As if this was possible.”_

_“I love you, Simon.”_

_The words made it out quietly, confidently, naturally, as if it weren’t the first time ever one of us had dropped the L-bomb._

_Simon tried to bite down his smile and replied. “I love you too.”_

_“Because of the Happy Trail?”_

_“Oh, yeah. That’s the one and only reason.”_

I get in the car with my dad as Mom stays, waiting for her sister, late as always. But this time, maybe it’s on purpose. Officially so my dad and I can have a bit of bonding time, officiously because if my parents are on friendly terms, they are definitely not friends anymore.

It used to get me so sad. It doesn’t anymore. I made my peace with it. My mom could have gotten over the divorce, she could have forgiven the cheating too, I think. But she will forever blame him for the accident. Even if I moved on.

And maybe the conversation I overheard earlier was a sign that things are starting to change, but as long as she can’t let go, my father won’t ever be able to look at her in the eyes without being hit by the guilt.

And the thing is… it’s his fault. But it all ended up okay and I think that the hostile feelings about this are not helping me and probably contributed to how this became such a huge deal for me.

But even that is fading away, once more thanks to Simon, simply because he made me put words on it. And he didn’t realize what a fantastic step that was for me. My parents both tried to talk to me about it but never were able to get me to open up about it, my mom even sent me to see a therapist but that didn’t really get us anywhere. Again, I think that making a big deal out of it simply made it worse.

Simon just asked. For me. For us. Not because to fuel his anger or soothe his guilt. Which allowed me to put my own words on what happened for the first time and also realize that I didn’t actually have much to say about and that my own feelings weren’t as deep as everyone assumed, and made me think, that they were…

_We were watching TV in my living room one evening, a few weeks after our first ‘I love you’s. Simon had just been given sleepover rights and it was just the two of us, late on a Saturday night, my mom already in bed because she had an early shift at the hospital the next day._

_I was so looking forward to sleeping with Simon (literally sleeping. We were nowhere near being intimate yet. Well… there was a little bit of fun, but nothing like what we would do now when we are given a bed and a closed door) and we were in the couch, cuddling in front of something I absolutely don’t remember._

_“Bram?” Simon asked at some point and I could tell he was being serious so I muted the TV before making a small sound so he would know he had my attention. “Will you ever tell me about it?”_

_“About what?” I wasn’t being precious, I genuinely had no idea what he was talking about._

_“Your scar. When we were by the lake, you told me there was a story and that you would tell me someday. But it hasn’t happened and I don’t know if it’s okay to ask.”_

_I held him a bit closer. “It’s always okay to ask.”_

_“And it’s okay to reply that you don’t want to talk about it, okay?”_

_“I know.” Simon. Never pushy, always perfect. I never wanted to talk about it before, I hadn’t even told Garrett at that point, but I wanted to tell Simon. Because Jacques and Simon have always been my safe place, where I could be myself and share what I couldn’t share outside._

_“I told you that I fell through a glass door, didn’t I?”_

_“You did.”_

_“It’s usually the only thing I share about this. People just think that I was a child, that I was a bit agitated, and that it was just an accident.”_

_“I’m guessing this isn’t what happened?”_

_“Not exactly. It wasn’t even a glass door, actually. I fell through the conservatory roof.”_

_“Really? You don’t strike me as the type who would walk on a conservatory roof.”_

_“I was ten. It was… I don’t remember clearly everything that happened, and there are details that I couldn’t have known back then, things I understood or was told later… not that we really ever talked about it. Anyway. It was a Sunday, my mom was at the hospital, working, so I was home with my Dad. I asked him if we could go and play soccer in the park, but he said he had to work, that people from the university were coming to have a meeting with him and that I could just go and play in the garden. As you probably guessed, I kicked the ball on the roof of the conservatory. I went back in and called out for my dad, but he never replied. He was busy working. I didn’t even know if his colleagues were already there or not. What I knew is that when he was working, I wasn’t allowed to bother him unless there was an emergency. This was hardly that. I wasn’t very patient so I didn’t wait for him to be done, and I climbed on that roof through the bathroom window. I had no idea back then about physics, gravity, and all the rest. I had this notion that if I was being careful, everything would be okay.”_

_“And you fell through?”_

_“And I fell through. I so perfectly remember hearing the glass crack and being first confused then scared. I fell and I landed on a piece of glass.”_

_“That sounds awful. Did it hurt?”_

_“Not at first. I tried to move and the glass I was sort of impaled on moved. That woke all the pain. I screamed.”_

_“What did your father do?”_

_“Nothing. He wasn’t actually home. He was in his car across the street cheating on my mom.”_

_“Bram…” Simon’s voice is weak, as if he suddenly doesn’t know what to say. But I don’t want him to feel sorry for me._

_“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. And she is his wife now, so it wasn’t just some cheap hookup.”_

_“How long until he found you?”_

_“No one knows for sure because I passed out. I woke up in the hospital and there were talks of possible organ damage, probably spine injury, and this idea that I might not be able to walk again.”_

_“Bram, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”_

_“It’s fine. I ended being perfectly alright. I could walk and there hasn’t been any permanent damage. Apart from the scar. It did hurt for a long time but that’s it.”_

_“Is that… is that why your parents got a divorce?”_

_“I don’t know. They were clearly having problems. They just couldn’t run away from them anymore.”_

_“Do you think about all of that when you think about the scar? When I touch it?”_

_“No, it’s… I used to. And I was hurt, angry, and confused for a long time. But I’m letting go now. Better than my parents are.”_

_“I’ll leave it alone from now on.”_

_“Don’t. Now when I see it in the mirror or when you run your fingers on it… the first thing that comes to mind is ‘Happy Trail’ and it makes me smile. Maybe it is a happy trail. Leading me from a place of pain to you.”_

_Simon kissed me deeply but gently, as if he was trying to wipe all the negativity away with his love. It was working pretty well._

_“Thank you for sharing this with me.”_

_I shrugged, embarrassed. “Thank you for listening. For caring.”_

_“There is one important question you still haven’t answered, though.”_

_“Which one?”_

_“Did you get your soccer ball back?”_

“Bram?”

“Sorry Dad, I was miles away. What were you saying?”

“Nothing much. Just that I’m looking forward to meeting your boyfriend. You talked about him a lot this summer but you’ve been a bit quieter about you two lately. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is great. I guess you just missed the phase when everything was new and exciting. Now Simon is just… my boyfriend. Like it’s a fact and it makes me strong and happy more than excited and giddy.”

“I hope he still makes you a bit excited and giddy.”

“He does,” I reply with a smile. It’s a quieter energy than it used to be, but it’s a deeper one, and I might like it better.

“Have you talked to him about me?”

“I have.”

“Good stuff I hope!”

I look at my dad. I have told Simon everything. The accident, the times he disappointed me, the times he annoyed me, the times he made me feel like I didn’t matter anymore… but I also told him the times he made me feel proud, the times he drove across the state just to watch a game he knew I would probably sit out, when he made me laugh, how I can call him anytime and he’ll pick up… My dad screwed up/ More than one. But he’s my dad, he loves me, and he’s there. Plus, he learned from that day. And I hope that means that this baby won’t ever be left unattended long enough to climb on a conservatory. Or… you know, that he will be told the risks so he won’t consider the idea in the first place.

“Yeah. Good stuff.”

I know Simon is looking forward to meeting my dad, in a warm and happy way that only Simon can have. Because he doesn’t hold a grudge that’s not him to have. I forgave my dad, so Simon did too.

“Dad… can I just ask you one thing for tonight?”

“Anything, son.”

“When we’re out for dinner with the Spiers… please do not enter a dads jokes competition with Simon’s dad.”

“Sorry, Abraham. No promises there.”

“Dad…”

“Fine. No competition. But I’m allowed three of them.”

This is going to be a mortifying evening for Simon and me. Probably Nora too.

We get out of the car and someone passes next to us.

“Nice scar,” the voice says, nearly making me jump. I smile instantly. I know that voice so well by now.

“Nice stretch marks.”

Leah shows me her middle finger and keeps walking.

“Who is that?” my dad asks, apparently mildly outraged by this exchange.

“If I were straight, she’d be the one you’d be meeting tonight.”

“Right… I think I like Simon better already.”

“Good. Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So... you know all the times I tell you that story ended up being nothing like I imagined when I started?  
> This is definitely one of those...
> 
> Sorry for the slightly dark tone and lack of fluff. I'll do better next time :)


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